


And then there was him.

by bugheadslilbitch



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017), Riverdale (TV 2017) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, F/M, Falling In Love, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-09 08:27:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20850440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugheadslilbitch/pseuds/bugheadslilbitch
Summary: Preparing herself is second nature to betty cooper, however, despite not speaking a word of French, betty finds herself in Paris, thousands of miles away from her family, at a boarding school. And although she tries to ready herself for any possible situation, she doesn’t prepare for a stupidly attractive man turning up at her door one night, seemingly drunk. Going by the name of Jughead jones, betty can’t help but become infatuated with him and his gorgeous looks, strangely uncommon knowledge of literature and hidden secrets; and she also can’t help but think he’s into her, too. One problem: his petite amie.





	1. c h a p t e r    1

Here is a list of everything I know about France, Coco chanel is from there, there’s the Arc de Triomphe, Moulin rouge, Madeline and coffee.The food is really good and the people smoke a lot of cigarettes. They don’t like Americans, but will put up with them for the tourist season. So in total, not a lot. And when my mother decided to send me to a boarding school a few months ago, in the centre of Paris, it’s not hard to believe i wasn’t too thrilled. Still, it’s a new learning experience and a chance to live in one of the most gorgeous cities in the world, and of course, the coffee. Apparently it’s super good. It was supposed to be “an experience i will treasure for the rest of my life, and a chance to get away from this wretched town.” so like all things, I decided to have a positive outlook on it, even if I am leaving behind my family and my favourite chock lit shoppe. So when it came to packing my things, I thought of everything you could possibly need in the event that anything bad at all happened. Mini first aid kit, regular sized first aid kit, two reusable water bottles, a swiss army knife, super glue, zit zappers, several portable chargers with leads, a plain black umbrella, red lipstick (even though I only wear a pearly pink), plug adaptors and painkillers. Lord knows how I managed to fit it all into my suitcase along with all of my clothes and toiletries. The point is; I will probably be the most prepared American in Paris. 

Since the announcement of my departure, I have tried begging, yelling, pleading, bribing - the lot. But nothing has convinced my mother otherwise. Now, I have a student passport and an annual metro card, both reminding me the I, Betty Cooper, am being shipped off to Paris for a year.

So now I am here, in the middle of Paris, trying to unpack my things into a dorm room only just about bigger than my suitcase, with half the room already filled with another girl’s belongings, and my mother watching me with a careful eye, knowing I could explode any minute. She keeps taking occasional glances out of the window - which, by the way, i have found has a draft, and we have to keep a towel wedged underneath it because apparently this school can’t afford to pay for proper window installation. Even with the ridiculous amount that is being spent on my attendance here. The lady who sings opera at the restaurant outside said window begun half an hour ago, and honestly, it’s probably the best thing about Paris so far; considering the tourist season is over and so everything is now written in French and spoken in French too. And I don’t speak a word of it.

And it’s not that I’m ungrateful, at all. It’s Paris, the city of light, and an apparent hotspot for romance. I’m not immune to all of that - it’s just that this whole boarding school and life abroad is much less to do with my education, and more so to do with my mother trying to maintain her perfect reputation.

Ever since the events of last summer that happened in my hometown, involving several murders and my father, my mother’s perfect image has been tinged with the scarlet stain of innocent blood. And I’ll be honest, I don’t blame her for sending me off to France. She went to the same school as me during her junior year, and she always talks about how her time there shaped the way she is today. Needless to say, I’m a little scared to go. The school does, however, have English speaking teachers and students. The school itself was made for pretentious rich American folk that like to show off how cultured their children are, and shove them, all ninety two of them, into lessons to learn regular things, just in a different country. My mother's attitude towards the school, on the other hand, couldn’t be filled with more praises. Her excitement when I said I would go was displayed through a rare hug and a toothy smile. Which was promptly closed mouthed. She believes I should change my outlook on this whole thing quickly, because the sooner I start to realise I’m in Paris, the better. Besides, I'm only there for 9 months and time flies when you’re having fun in new surroundings. But what she doesn’t realise is that I would love to go to Paris. For a holiday, maybe a month. But almost a year away from my sister will betorture. How is she supposed to help me during panic attacks if she's 4 thousand miles away? What about when i have a nightmare, or if there’s a thunderstorm. Damn i sound pathetic. Point is, Polly has been there for me every step of my life, especially during these past few months. Also, I hope my mother doesn’t expect me to attend college internationally as well, my plan has and always will be to study journalism at NYU. Nothing will cha-  
“Betty? Its time.”  
“What?” I look up from hanging up my clothes in the wardrobe. My mother has made her way across the room and is now stood next to the door looking at her wristwatch. She needs to go back to her hotel room, she has an early flight. We agreed that she would stay with me for an hour so to help me begin unpacking, but any later than that and she would be too tired to get up early enough tomorrow.  
“Take care of yourself, darling. Study hard and try to make new friends, don’t smoke and remember it is legal to drink at your age here, but if I find out you do, I-”  
“Yes mom, i get it. I’m not going to drink.”  
“You’ll have a wonderful year here. And I am proud of you for stepping out of your comfort zone. I will call you as soon as I am back home in Riverdale.”  
Home. Riverdale isn’t exactly my home anymore now is it though. Paris is. This tiny room with another girl is. This country that speaks a different language to me is my new home, and I don’t feel happy here at all.  
But then my mother does something I didn’t believe would ever happen. After all the paperwork, plane tickets and meetings. Something that would have happened next year anyway, and even though I readied myself as much as I could, I am still unprepared for when it actually happens. She turns, leaves and I am alone.


	2. C H A P T E R  2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two important meetings.

Jesus Christ she actually left me. 

In France. In Paris. Alone. ALONE! Paris is oddly calm, compared to my frantic panicking. The lady outside has taken a break but I can still hear the cars outside my window. I’m still scared though. Dear god I think I might throw up that weird “salade d'aubergines” I had at the airport. My anxiety has been simmering recently at the proposal of this new “adventure” but now I think I’m about to go into a full blown panic attack. Great. That’s definitely what I want my new classmates to have the first impression of me doing. 

The walls here are paper thin, so I can't exactly just cry like I want to. I make my way over to the little sink in my bathroom and try to splash my face to clear my head, but the faucet has other ideas. Now my shirt is soaking wet. Even better. And now all I can think about is the rides me and Kevin used to ride whenever the fairground would come to Riverdale in June. The ones where we would go down the log flumes and get drenched in murky water from head to toe. Oh god, is the water full of bacteria here? Is it even safe to drink in France? All I want is to be back home with Kev, but I won't even be back in time to go this year.

I am actually ridiculous. Pathetic. How many kids would love to come and study in Paris for a year? Nobody else is having a meltdown, I can't hear my neighbors crying. Infact, i can hear someone knocking. No, surely that can’t be my door. I make my way out of the bathroom to see a raven haired girl standing in the doorframe of my room, still open from my mother leaving.  
“Hey, uh, are you okay? I think i heard you crying”  
Please leave. I just want to be alone.  
“Uh yeah that was me, I’m Betty, I’m new here and I guess i'm just having a little trouble settling in.”  
“Oh, well, welcome, my name is Veronica and you look like you could do with a friend, and some chocolat chaud? Come on.” she said briskly and led me out of the room. As it turns out, her room is next to mine, so the walk isnt long. Her room is vastly different to the white plains of my own. It’s clear she’s been here a while,as all her walls are covered in magazine cut out and articles from vogue, as well as the odd photo of the same group of friends.  
“Wow. Your room is amazing! Have you been here long?”  
“Yeah, I live in New York but I've gone here since freshman year. I flew alone and got here earlier today because I didn't need to unpack anything, and anything else I need i can just get shipped out. Or buy here i guess, i mean we are in a city known for its fashion. Now im just waiting for my friends to arrive, here look” she explains as she hands me a photo frame with a picture of three friends, including Veronica. They’re in all black and sitting on the steps of some fancy building, wearing matching red berets. That's got to be a joke?  
“Yeah, I know what you're thinking, what a cliche, but it was for Toni’s photography coursework. She’s not in the photo, she was behind the camera, but that’s Cheryl,” she said pointing to a pale redhead with bright red lipstick on, her hair in a low bun below her hat.  
“That’s my Archiekins, or well, actually that’s just Archie. He’s not quite mine yet. But we’ll see” she explained pointing to another redhead with a more square jaw sat next to Veronica, arm around her shoulders. God, isn’t he handsome she heard veronica whisper musingly.  
“Wait, he’s not your type right?”  
“Uhh no. I think i'm actually just going to try and focus on my studying and exploring paris for the time being. But I do hear that french boys are gorgeous,”  
“The ones I know aren’t, compared to my archie. But i think i might be biased. Well.. hmm maybe Jug but I don't see him like that. You’ll see him tomorrow, along with Cher and Arch, but Toni goes to another school on the other side of Paris, so you probably won’t see her too soon. Who knows, she comes by whenever she feels like it.” she chuckled,  
“Still hope” I replied. 

She began playing some French songs on her mini record player next to her bed. Her window, unlike mine, has been opened to let the evening breeze in, letting the veils waft in the wind. Looking around her room, everything seems so put together and well thought out. So far my room consists of the bed, wardrobe and dresser, an exploded suitcase and half of my clothes still laid out on my bed, waiting to be put away properly.

I end up staying far longer than i thought i would, finally getting up from Veronicas bed around ten and putting my empty mug from my hot chocolate (can you believe i found out what chocolat chaud is!), and saying goodnight after talking to her for a few hours. I learn that her family lives in New York, and although her father owns lots of properties and has ties in many businesses in the US, Veronica herself finds her own passion in the world of fashion. I mean it wasn’t too hard to tell, her outfit just from travelling was more put together than when im trying my hardest, and I say as such, to which she tells me she'd help me whenever I wanted her to. That’s reassuring.   
“Okay well I'll see you tomorrow then? At breakfast? That’s when everyone gets their timetables, so we can compare lessons with each other and everyone else”  
“Yeah sure, I’ll be there, but I’m gonna head to bed now, maybe do some unpacking first, I’m tired. I'm so glad I’ve met you already, V”  
“I have a feeling this is going to be the beginning of a wonderful new friendship B”  
“Goodnight.” I say as I walk out of her room, my mind feeling much lighter than it did before. I return to my room, and try to organize some more of my belongings. We brought some organisers for my dresser with me so i just need to put them in and fill them. 

I'm done within half an hour, and I notice that one of my taps isn’t working in the bathroom as I try to brush my teeth, so I double check i have my key and head out of my room towards the student support professor. His room’s much nicer than any others I’ve seen so far, probably because he’s an actual member of staff, but judging off of his appearance, he doesn’t look much older than a college junior. After I’ve spoken with him, I leave with the promise that a guy will be by tomorrow after classes to fix it, but for the time being I will just have to deal with cold water. But that's alright anyway.

Walking back to my room doesn't take too long, and before I know it I'm already unlocking it and going inside. I throw on some pyjamas with strawberries and cherries on them, and turn off the main light. 

The streetlamp outside illuminates the room and I can find my way back towards the bed easily. I open up the sheets as i hear a knock on my door. Jesus christ. I head over to unlock it and I'm faced with a goofy smile. His hair is the first thing i notice; medium length black curls, swooped on his head to give an effortlessly put together style. His eyes are the next thing that catches my attention. Piercingly blue, and staring right back at mine.  
“Umm.. sorry, can I help you?”  
“Oh hey sorry, uhh is ronnie still living here?”  
Oh my god his voice. I think i might die. He has a vaguely french accent, not noticeable to most, but more of a "I've lived here most my life" sort of hint.  
“Veronica Lodge? Latina girl, black hair, probably wearing pearls,” he chuckles, and i think at the sound of his voice again i melt just a little bit more. He starts to look at me like im a crazy person, probably because I haven’t replied yet.   
“Im sorry, you were going to bed” he says gesturing to the strawberries.   
“Oh Veronica? Yeah, sorry she’s next door, I just spent two hours with her!” I brag like a four year old. God why i am i actually a child. “I’m betty, I’m new here, just moved in!” Oh god, what is wrong with me. Why won’t my mouth just stop moving? I think my cheeks are on fire and I am humiliated.  
The gorgeous boy just grins and chuckles slightly.  
“Jughead.” He says, “I live on the floor above.”  
I point towards the inside of my room and say dumble “i live here,”  
He moves over to the door to my left and raps twice before turning the handle and facing me again.   
“Well, I guess I'll see you around, Betty.” he says as he walks in  
“Jug! Oh my gosh! When did you get here! I’ve missed you! How was your summer? Have you seen Arch yet? Or Cher?” I hear Veronica say excitedly, as her door slams shut.   
I am stood in my doorframe wearing my pyjamas still looking out into the hallway. A small group of girls walk past wearing bathrobes and gossiping excitedly in French.

I am reminded once again how I am still the new girl and I am still alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you for reading, leaving kudos and comments; always feel free to let me know what you think or what I can improve on :)
> 
> (Any mistakes or errors I apologise for, I am my own editor and also sleep deprived.)

**Author's Note:**

> apologies for any mistakes, i am my own editor and also sleep deprived.  
ty for reading  
its gonna get better lol.


End file.
